CHAPTER 225: CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE

Evening settled over the house, a deep and welcoming peace descended with it. Eric sat on the edge of Delia’s large, comfortable bed, hugging a soft pillow to his chest as he watched her. The room was bathed in the warm, gentle glow of lanterns, their flickering flames dancing on the walls.

She came out of the washroom, a cloud of warm, clean steam following her. She was wrapped in a thick, white towel, her skin still rosy from the hot bath. Eric watched, a soft, lovesick smile on his face, as she dried herself with an unselfconscious grace. He felt a profound sense of contentment, a quiet joy in simply being able to witness these small, private moments of their life together.

She got dressed in a simple nightgown of pale blue silk that shimmered in the candlelight. She took a separate towel and began to dry her long, dark curly hair, rubbing it gently. Finally, she went to sit at her vanity table, picked up a silver-backed brush, and began to work through the tangles, her head tilted to one side. She was humming a happy, quiet tune, a melody he had never heard before but one that seemed to be the perfect soundtrack for the peaceful evening.

Eric stood up from the bed, the pillow falling away unnoticed. He walked silently across the thick rug until he was standing just behind her. She saw his reflection in the mirror and her humming stopped, but the smile on her face grew wider. He gently took the brush from her hand.

"Allow me," he said, his voice a low, deep murmur.

He began to brush her hair, his movements slow and careful. Here, with her, he was infinitely gentle. The soft bristles of the brush moved through her long tresses, removing the last of the tangles until her hair fell in a smooth, dark curls down her back. They both looked at each other through the mirror, their reflections bathed in the golden candlelight.

"Your hair is so soft," he said, his fingers combing through a strand, letting the texture slide over his skin.

After he finished, he set the brush down and rested his hands on her shoulders. He crouched a little, bringing his face level with hers in the mirror, their reflections now side-by-side. "You are beautiful," he whispered, his eyes full of a deep, sincere adoration.

Delia blushed, a lovely crimson color rising in her cheeks. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping for a second in a gesture of shy pleasure. "Did you just notice?" she teased, her eyes meeting his again in the mirror.

Eric’s smile widened. "No," he replied, his voice serious. "I noticed the first moment I saw you. What I am saying is that you look more beautiful every single time I look at you. It is a constant, and very pleasant, surprise."

Delia’s cheeks felt as red as a tomato and hot to the touch. "Enough with your flattery, Your Grace," she said, though her heart was fluttering like a trapped bird.

Eric smiled, leaned in, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of her head. Then, he straightened up and held out his hand. "Come," he said. "Let’s go to bed."

She took his hand, and they went to the bed. Delia settled into his arms, her head finding its familiar place on his chest, his arms cradling her securely. The silence in the room was peaceful, comfortable, filled only with the soft sound of their breathing and the gentle crackle of the candlewicks. It was the kind of silence that existed only between two people who were completely at ease with one another.

After a long while, Eric’s voice, a soft murmur against her hair, broke the quiet. "My duchess, are you awake?"

Delia let out a soft, sleepy "Mmmmm," a sound of pure contentment.

There was another long, thoughtful silence before he finally voiced the thoughts that had clearly been on his mind. "Let’s... let’s have a child soon," he said, the slight hesitation in his voice revealing the deep importance of the question.

Delia’s eyes opened. She lifted her head from his chest to meet his face, her expression one of gentle surprise. "Soon?"

Eric nodded, his gaze earnest and full of a hopeful, boyish excitement. "Yes. Soon. I want at least two. With Owen, of course, that would make three." His eyes seemed to look past her, into a future he was vividly imagining. "What do you think?"

Delia chuckled, a warm, fond sound. "I don’t know, Eric. I have never really thought about having them so soon. There is still so much going on."

"Likewise," he admitted. "I never gave it much thought before. But now... thinking about a child that looks like me, and that looks like the person I love most in this world, coming into this world... it must feel so joyful."

He was getting ahead of himself now, his excitement bubbling over. "And when we have a child, I will work from home more often. I will have Aiden bring the ledgers here. And on the weekends, I’ll take them and Owen out to the Carson mansion or for a ride in the estate, so that you will be able to rest. Then during the seasons, we can..."

Delia’s happy laughter interrupted his enthusiastic planning. She pushed herself up and straddled him, her nightgown pooling around her. She poked his chest lightly with her finger, a playful glint in her eyes. "Eric Carson," she teased, "you are getting very far ahead of yourself."

Eric stared up at her, at how the candle flame added a golden, magical touch to her blue eyes, at the way she looked both powerful and tender sitting above him. "Oh, am I?" he asked, a lovesick grin on his face.

Delia cupped his face in her hands, her expression turning more serious. "We still have obstacles to overcome, my love," she said gently. "Augusta is still out there. We have a company to stabilize. Our babies can wait. Just a little while longer."

Eric nodded in her hand, his excitement tempered by the truth in her words. "Okay," he said softly. He looked up at her, his eyes pleading for a promise. "We have gone through so many tough things together so far. And we will continue to, right? No matter what comes next?"

Delia leaned down, closing the small distance between them. She kissed him, a long, deep, and reassuring kiss that conveyed all the love and commitment in her heart. She stopped, her lips still hovering just above his, and answered him. "Of course," she whispered. "No matter what happens, we will face it. Together."

A look of relief washed over Eric’s face. He cupped her own face in his hands and pulled her down for another kiss, this one deeper, more passionate. She melted into his arms, the world outside their candlelit sanctuary fading into nothingness.